


Ascension Missing Moments - Erimond and Servis

by TCRegan



Series: Ascension of the Wolf [10]
Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 11:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3648948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TCRegan/pseuds/TCRegan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place shortly before chapter 6 of Passing Through the Valley.</p>
<p>Erimond and Servis have a conversation in Skyhold's prison cells.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ascension Missing Moments - Erimond and Servis

"Sixty-two bottles of beer on the wall, sixty-two bottles of beer. Take one down, pass it around – OW! Guard! Servis is using magic!"

Servis lowered his hand from which a spark of electricity flew, hitting Erimond on the forehead. The guard, who was a templar, and knew full well what just transpired, looked up from his book. He was leaning back in his chair, boots on the table. A lax position, but Servis saw firsthand what the Inquisition soldiers could do. The guard didn't cancel his spell, though a simple technique could have had him on his knees, at least half his mana drained. Or worse, using the mana drain to _hurt_ him. But as this particular guard had no training against the annoyance that was Erimond, Servis had figured he was doing the man a favor by shutting him up.

"I saw nothing," the guard grunted, and went back to his book.

Servis smirked as Erimond sputtered. "Livius, put it to rest," he drawled, standing and leaning against the bars. "You have a beautiful singing voice." He didn't. "But we needn't hear it twenty-four hours a day."

Erimond scowled. "You've only just gotten here. How would like it if you'd been around for months? _Months_ , Crassius! I'm going out of my mind with boredom! When is the blasted Inquisitor going to judge us! What happened to a swift trial?"

"Are you that eager to die, you pompous fool?"

"The Elder One is a _living god_. Do you think me a fool for wanting to serve-"

"Yes. Yes, I absolutely think you a fool." It wasn't difficult. In the Imperium, Erimond was hardly powerful. His holdings weren't as grand as others, and he often wore his emotions on his sleeve while others played their hands much closer to their chests. When Servis became involved with the Venatori, the Carta came to him, not to Erimond. They knew of his ability to move products through the Imperium, right under the Archon's nose in fact. Expensive trinkets and artifacts that would sell for a hefty sum, and the profits doubled in the last year alone.

"You've see the Elder One's power," Erimond said, standing. He grabbed the bars of his cell, pressing his face against them. "You know what he can do."

Which was exactly why he was relieved when the Inquisitor tossed him in a jail cell instead of sending him back to the crazed lunatic who thought himself a god. At first, the idea of raising the Imperium up was a promising one. Conquering other nations, bringing them – especially Orlais – to heel? That was something Servis supported. Until Corypheus had them digging through sand looking for ancient elven ruins. He'd been fully behind the proposals, until he realized that 'entering the Fade to seek godhood' wasn't just a euphemism. Corypheus's speeches, his ideas, turned more and more insane as the months wore on, and Servis became less sure about the whole thing. Oh, he still wanted the Imperium to conquer Thedas. To rule over his own little kingdom, perhaps. But when it became clear that Corypheus was insane – truly, horribly insane – he merely kept his head down and renegotiated his deal with the Carta.

And if he could just get out of this Maker damned cell, he could cash in on that deal. He appealed to Dorian, of course. Though he had no love for the Pavus family, he held them no ill-will, either. Erimond, idiot that he was, burned that bridge a long time ago. But Servis knew how to keep his connections intact. A couple of nice First Day or Wintersend presents, invitations to his parties, et cetera. Something to say, 'I'm thinking about you'. And while Halward Pavus often declined, an acquaintance with all the upper-class families kept him in the proper circles and protected. Appealing to the boy was humbling. He wasn't, after all, Lord of Asariel just yet. But he would be some day. And if the rumors held true, he was close to the Inquisitor.

"And the fact that we're safer in the Inquisition's cells rather than in Corypheus's employ makes you realize nothing?" Servis asked, sighing. Erimond often couldn't see the forest for the trees. The larger picture was always just out of reach. He was tired of trying to teach the man any sense.

"You'll see, Crassius!" Erimond shouted from across the hall.

"Quiet," the guard muttered, flipping a page.

"You'll see," Erimond repeated. "He has power you've only ever dreamed of!"

"If you say so." It was the best way to rankle Erimond, honestly. Servis sank down on his bed, lacing his fingers behind his head. Hopefully Dorian would come through. He could find a way to repay him. At the very least, he thought, he could ask to be moved to a different cell, further away from Erimond and his huffiness.

"You just wait," Erimond said, though the wind had been taken from his sails with Servis's easy dismissal. He muttered before sitting down on his bed. "Hey, guard!"

"What?"

"How about a book to dispel this boredom?"

The guard rifled around in a box, picked a book at random, and tossed it at the bars. Erimond snaked a hand through and picked it up. Servis sighed. It would keep him occupied for at least an hour or two. He closed his eyes. Best to try to get in some sleep now, as he was sure as soon as the boredom returned, Erimond would regale them with yet another jovial, annoying tune.


End file.
